Breaking Point
by hazelnut81
Summary: A one shot set around the current storyline, specifically starting from about mid-way through the 11/12/10 episode. Advisory: Jealous Dante ahead


Author's Note:

Concocted on Twitter lol…Biff, Chains, and Lori know (have to give a special dedication to you ladies)…there will be a little piece of a jealous Dante by request. Thanks, Lori, for naming "the other man" ;) …This one-shot starts *before* the Brenda/Dante scene on 11/12/10 because, yeah, that didn't even happen in my world. And neither did the "I love you" from the promo either. I started it this weekend and wanted to have it done before yesterday's eppy but this ended up being longer than I expected. Posting this at Lanteland too. I think I'm still suffering from a little writer's fatigue since I wasn't expecting to write this, so hopefully it doesn't suck and you guys enjoy :)

* * *

Everyone leaves.

And she always came in last. Or second best. In many ways, that was much, much worse.

Those were the thoughts circling in Lulu's head as she sat up in Dante's bed, bringing the sheets up to cover herself almost protectively, her body still feeling the remnants of their earlier lovemaking.

Her eyes shifted to the right where Dante stood staring out the window, seemingly lost in his thoughts. She kept the sigh from escaping her lips, instead letting her heart take another hit, feeling her stomach tie into yet another knot.

He was keeping something from her. And God, did that knowledge kick her in the gut and shatter the images she had in her head of her relationship with Dante. Images that were perhaps just perceptions, she acknowledged to herself. Like her perception that their relationship was perfect, that Dante was perfect.

_Nobody's perfect. You know that better than anyone._ The voice was almost like a taunt in her head as a sudden twinge of guilt pulled at her. There were things she hadn't told Dante. One very big thing in particular, she thought, as her throat swallowed around the sudden lump lodged there, her mind flashing back to those terrifying moments when she was forced to take a life. She tried, and failed, to fight off the shudder when Logan's face after she had stabbed him floated through her head. She squeezed her eyes shut and blocked it out.

When her eyes opened again, she came to another realization. She wasn't deliberately keeping what had happened between her and Logan, and what she had done, from Dante. She knew without a doubt she _would have_ told him at some point. But how do you even broach a subject like that? Her experience with Logan and her subsequent breakdown played a huge part in making her who she was, and Dante deserved to know that piece of her.

Dante, on the other hand, was hiding something purposefully. And it had to do with Brenda.

He lied to her. As much as she tried to convince herself and others that it was no big deal and she wasn't worried, it _was_ a big deal. And she _was_ worried. It felt like a wall was slowly building between them, trying to shake the foundation of trust that had been so carefully built. It felt like she was in competition with a fucking supermodel.

Every time she brought up Brenda in conversation, Dante was evasive, smoothly changing the subject or turning on the charm. Foolishly, she had allowed it. It was how she ended up in bed with him when she had been feet from walking out the door. She loved him. So much it shook her to the core. That's why it hurt so much to know that something, or someone, was coming between them. And he loved her. She knew he did. She never doubted those words when they came out of his mouth.

"_You're one of the most independent women I know."_

Dante's words from earlier that evening slipped into her mind. She didn't feel like that right now. She felt exactly how she told him before – jealous and possessive. And so terribly insecure. This was _not_ who she was damn it. Not anymore. It wasn't who she _wanted_ to be. Not ever again. If she just knew the truth, maybe she wouldn't be. Maybe she wouldn't have the constant fear in her head that she was going to lose the person who had come to mean everything to her.

Breaking her silence, she cleared her throat. "You're thinking about her, aren't you?"

Startled, he spun around, his expression looking both pained…and guilty. "What?"

"Who," she corrected. "Brenda."

He sighed. "Lulu, it's not what you think."

She hugged the sheets tighter to her body. "How can I think anything when I don't know anything? When you won't tell me anything?"

He fidgeted with his hands at his sides, appeared to be waging some kind of internal battle.

"I just want the truth," she continued. "You owe me the truth."

"I owe you a lot," he said quietly in agreement.

"Why have you been so distant? Lately, when you're standing right in front of me, sometimes it's like you're not even really there. What's going on with you?" She realized she sounded desperate, but she couldn't keep the words from coming across like a plea.

The battle going on with Dante's posture and in his eyes seemed to turn into a war, but he remained stubbornly silent.

"You lied when you told me Brenda didn't remember you, didn't you?" _Please don't lie to me now._ She didn't have to voice those last words as she was certain they were etched clearly upon her face.

"Yes," he whispered after another stretch of silence had lasted so long she had about given up hope that he would answer at all.

She knew it. And still felt the almost vise-like grip some invisible claws had around her heart. "Why?" It was hard to even get the word out. "Why did you have to lie about that? If all it was was a simple case of you guarding her, why couldn't you tell me the truth?" She took a breath. "It was more than that, right? You were more than just her bodyguard, weren't you?"

"I can't talk about it, Lulu." What she thought looked like regret passed over his face. "I can't. There's too much at risk." Even from across the room, she felt his eyes penetrate hers in an appeal for…what? Understanding? Forgiveness? "Please. I'm asking you to trust me."

"And I'm asking _you_ to trust _me_." She softened her voice. "You can tell me anything, don't you know that?"

"Lulu, please. Please. Just give me a little bit of time."

Disappointment burned a bitter hole inside of her. The man standing before her was not the same Dante she knew. This one was riddled down with the burdens of whatever secrets he held on his shoulders, the secrets he felt he needed to keep from her. About another woman.

"Fine." She stood up from the bed, keeping the sheet wrapped around her as she bent down and picked up her clothes from the floor. She blinked around the moisture she felt pooling at the corner of her eyelids. She retreated to the bathroom and angrily dabbed at the tears after she was fully dressed again, trying to compose herself to go out and face him and do what she knew she had to do.

He was standing in the same place when she returned, with the same broody, haunted look in his eyes. She picked up the bag she had packed earlier and started walking to the door.

He had made up the distance between them in seconds, his hand reaching out, his fingers sliding around her wrist as she went to pull open the door.

She sucked in a breath at the contact. Having his hands on her always felt so good, too good. And she couldn't think about that right now.

"What are you doing?" There was alarm, and perhaps a little fear, in his voice.

_Good_, she thought to herself, and then immediately felt a small sense of shame.

"I'm leaving. I'm giving you _time_." She tried not to sneer at that last word. _Time to realize what an idiot you're being_, she silently added. She tugged her wrist out of his grasp. "You remember when I suggested a couple months back we give each other some space?" She saw immediately that he knew exactly what she was talking about. And she also saw the same panic in his eyes now that she did then. "Consider it official."

"No," he said adamantly. "Lulu." His voice rose a notch, his head gave a fierce shake. "I can't lose you. You're the one thing I can't ever lose. That's why I need to keep you away from this." The words were a rush, and he went to reach for her again, and damn it all, she almost fell right back into his arms. She _wanted_ to fall right back into his arms. She shifted away from him before she caved in and a sound of frustration expelled from his lips. "I told you back then it would kill me to lose you. I love you, Lulu."

She bit down on her tongue to keep from asking him if she was the only one he'd ever loved. Or if that was a lie too. And she had to get the hell out of this apartment before she lost it completely. "I love you, too, Dante. But I think we're to the point now where we need to see if we still feel the same when we're apart. Whatever you're struggling with is something you don't feel you can share with me. I think that's something we both need to think about. Because honestly? I don't like who I am right now or what I'm feeling right now."

Ignoring the undisguised turmoil she saw on his face, she turned her back on him, opened the door, and walked out. And promptly let the tears fall from her weary eyes, wondering if she'd done the exact opposite of the right thing.

* * *

Dante took another swig of beer as he sat on the couch in the dark, the only light coming from the moon that cast a small glow through the windows. There wasn't enough alcohol in the world to take the edge off of what he was feeling, but he was damn well trying and resisting the urge to go with something a whole hell of a lot stronger than beer.

She left.

His hand shook slightly as he tipped the bottle at his lips, felt the slide of the alcohol down his throat, leaving a burning sensation in its wake. How many had he even had since she walked out the door? Too many. Not enough.

Panic had kept him from asking her all the questions that weaved through his mind the second the word "space" left those lips of hers. His gut, and other places, tightened. Her lips were the last thing he needed to be thinking about right now.

He set the beer down on the table so he could run his hands through his hair and then back down his face.

What the fuck did _space_ mean anyway? Was she breaking up with him? _That couldn't happen._ He wouldn't let that happen. Could he call her? Could he see her? How long did she want this goddamned space?

The questions seemed to explode in his head, and he rose from the couch in anger, grabbing the beer bottle and pacing back and forth. He wasn't angry at her. He was angry at himself for letting it get to this point. For hurting her.

He went to take another drink from the bottle, found it empty, and he hurled it at the door in frustration, barely registering the shattering of glass.

It may as well have been his life reflected in those shattered shards on the floor, because without Lulu, he was broken.

He cursed the day Brenda-freaking-Barrett stepped into his life.

* * *

"Where is Maxie?"

Lulu turned her head to see a more annoyed than usual Kate Howard staring back at her expectantly.

"She said something about visiting Robin at the hospital this morning. I'm sure she'll be here soon."

Kate sighed. "Evan will be here any minute."

Evan? Lulu searched her brain for recognition. Ah. The model who agreed to do a special spread for Crimson's anniversary issue. The model Kate had to pull a ton of strings and pay a shitload of money to get.

"Maxie is supposed to be his escort today." Kate sighed again. "I'm late for a meeting. I'm leaving you in charge of him until Maxie gets here. Whatever he wants, get it for him. I need him to be happy. At least until after the photo shoot tomorrow." She started walking towards the elevator. "And if you value your paycheck, don't screw this up for me, Lulu."

Lulu watched the doors slide closed and shook her head. "You're welcome," she muttered under her breath. She turned back towards her computer when she heard her cell phone ring. She glanced down to where she set it beside the keyboard and held her breath when Dante's name flashed on the screen.

It had been four days since she left his apartment. It was harder than she imagined being away from him for even that short amount of time, but she needed the space no matter how much she missed him. He called her at least three times a day, but she let her voicemail pick up each time. His messages were filled with urgent "I miss you," "I need you," "I love you's" and desperate pleas for her to call him back. She had almost done just that more than once, but in the end, she refused to give in. Not until Dante came clean with her. Whether whatever he had to say was hard to take or not, she had to know. The voicemail indicator flashed on the screen, and reluctantly she went to pick up her phone but stopped when she heard the ding from the elevator. She turned around and barely kept her mouth from dropping open.

_Hello, gorgeous._

The man spotted her and walked towards her in slow, self-assured steps. Holy crap, he looked…well, like a supermodel. She had seen a couple of pictures of him before, but they paled in comparison to the real thing now standing a foot away from her. He was wearing dark-colored khakis and a white button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone, and though the outfit was a simple one, she imagined whatever name was stamped on the tags put the price tag in at least the hundreds.

When she looked up at him from her chair, she took in his perfectly styled jet-black hair that didn't have a strand out of place and then lower until she was looking into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. She watched as his perfect lips tilted into a small smile.

The man was like a freaking piece of art. She would be blind not to notice it…or appreciate it. And yes, she most certainly could and did appreciate it.

So why then, was it Dante with his disheveled brown hair in need of a trim and common brown eyes who could set her insides on fire and make her melt? Who could look amazing in a plain t-shirt and a pair of old jeans? He was not sculpted after the same god as the man standing before her. So why couldn't she have the same internal reaction to this man like she could with Dante?

_Because it was Dante's silky soft hair that she loved to tangle her fingers in._

_Because it was those common brown eyes that darkened with need and desire whenever he looked at her._

_Because her damn heart was owned by the bastard._

And that really pissed her off.

"You look upset."

The voice held a slightly amused, slightly concerned tone and was inflected with a subtle Irish accent. An accent. Perfect. He could probably give women an orgasm with that voice. But then again, when Dante's voice got low and husky…

_Stop it_, she ordered herself harshly.

She rose to her feet. "Um…I'm sorry. You must be Evan."

"I am. Are you Maxie?"

"No. Maxie should be here soon though." She held out her hand. "Lulu Spencer. I'm Kate's other assistant."

Instead of shaking her hand, he reached out and brought it to his lips and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. "Lulu. I like it."

Taken off guard, all she could do was stand there and smile.

He released her hand, and she cleared her throat. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"I'm good." He seemed to peruse her from head to toe, and she tried not to squirm. "Why don't you model? You have the look for it." He shocked her by gently sliding his thumb along her upper cheek. "And the most magnificent eyes."

She couldn't help it. She laughed. "You're smooth."

Instead of looking upset, he smiled warmly back at her. "I try."

"I doubt you have to try very hard."

"Mmm. I think I like Port Charles already."

A little flustered, she was saved from having to respond by Maxie bursting out of the elevator.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry. I know I'm…" Her voice cut off abruptly as Evan turned to face her. "Well hello there." Maxie's eyes practically devoured him.

"Maxie, I presume."

She walked over to them and Evan took her hand and gave it the same kiss he had given to Lulu.

"You can presume anything you want all day and all night," Maxie declared.

Evan laughed. "I may not want to leave after the shoot tomorrow." He paused. "So will I get both of you lovely ladies showing me around town today?"

"Just Maxie. I have to handle things in the office today," Lulu responded.

He turned back around to look at her in a way that could only be called suggestively. "And tonight?"

Lulu saw Maxie's eyebrows lift from over Evan's shoulder. "I'm…." She paused. "Sort of seeing someone."

Now it was Evan who lifted his brows. "Sort of?"

"He's being a jackass," Maxie cut in helpfully.

"I see. Then it sounds to me like you deserve to go out and have some fun. I promise to be a perfect gentleman. Unless you ask otherwise."

He said it teasingly so she laughed in response. Then she shook her head and sighed. She missed the playful, flirty side of Dante she so rarely saw anymore. But damn it, she _did_ deserve to let loose and enjoy herself, didn't she?

"Come on, Lulu. I'll come and bring Matt along. It can be like a double date," Maxie urged.

The word "date" with anyone except Dante left an unsettled feeling in her stomach.

"What's going on?"

Lulu jolted at the familiar voice. The familiar, unhappy voice.

She saw Dante glaring at the back of Evan's head. Evan turned as Dante approached them. Lulu automatically moved to stand in between them. "I didn't hear you come in," she said. How much had he heard?

"Obviously," he responded tightly.

Lulu glanced down and saw he held a bouquet of roses in his hand. A bandaged hand. She frowned. "What did you do?" she asked gesturing to the white gauze covering the lower part of his right hand.

He broke away from his staring contest with Evan to look at her. "Cut it on some glass." He shrugged.

"Are you okay?" she couldn't help asking.

"Fine," he muttered.

An awkward silence settled upon them as Dante returned to sizing up Evan.

"Dante, this is Evan Kavanagh. He's doing a photo shoot for Crimson tomorrow." Lulu watched as Evan held out a hand to Dante. "Evan, this Dante Falconeri…"

"Her boyfriend," Dante finished, making no move to shake Evan's hand.

Evan smoothly brought his arm back down to his side. "Ah. The one she's 'sort of' seeing."

Lulu's lips parted slightly in surprise, and she caught the hand of Dante's not holding the flowers clenching into a fist.

"Excuse me?" There was no mistaking the anger in those words as they left Dante's mouth.

When Evan looked at her, she caught the mischief in his eyes as he winked. She pursed her lips to keep from smiling.

Evan addressed Dante again. "I was just inviting Lulu to join me this evening. Completely innocent, of course. I bore easily. Somehow I don't think that will be an issue in her company."

Dante's eyes narrowed as he took a threatening step forward. Lulu maneuvered herself again to block him from going farther. As much as she hated to admit it, seeing the possessive look on Dante's face sent a shiver of excitement running through her.

"She won't be alone with him," Maxie added, clearly amused. "Matt and I will be there. There's this brand new Italian place that just opened. Reservations are already booked through the next couple months but I bet Evan showing his face can get us right in."

Lulu saw Dante's jaw working.

"I actually think I'd prefer something a little more casual," Evan said thoughtfully.

Oh hell, she'd play along. "We could go to Jake's. It's a bar. We could shoot some pool, have a few drinks."

"Sounds perfect," Evan agreed.

"It's actually good that you'll be with me. I won't have to worry about guys trying to pick me up with lines like 'Do you come here often?'"

"Lulu." There was a note of warning in Dante's voice, and she felt a little guilty and a little mean. The truth was that line, and all the ones after it, hooked into her heart and reeled her in slowly. That hook felt pretty damn painful right now.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want to come and bring Brenda?" she asked sweetly even as she crossed her arms over her chest in challenge.

His eyes were practically shooting sparks now. He let loose an impressive curse and then leaned around her to throw the flowers on her desk before turning and stalking to the elevator.

Her legs suddenly feeling shaky, she lowered herself down to her chair and took a deep breath.

"You okay?" both Maxie and Evan asked her.

She didn't answer. She wasn't okay. But maybe it was time for Dante to understand what he stood to lose.

* * *

"You look gorgeous," Evan said from across the table.

She smiled at him. "I think you already mentioned that."

"It was worth a repeat."

Lulu spared a glance over to where Maxie and Matt were playing a game of pool. Then her eyes wandered over to where they had been for the better part of the last hour since they got to Jake's. On Dante.

She had known he would be here. He was already sitting at the bar when they had walked in. He kept himself turned in his seat, his furious eyes on them the entire time except for when he got refills on the alcohol he seemed to be drinking too much of.

_Stop worrying about Dante. Stop thinking about him. _She was out with one of the most gorgeous men in the world. She should be enjoying herself. So why in the hell was she feeling so depressed?

She jumped when one of Evan's fingers tilted up her chin. "No man should put that look on a woman's face."

She tried to force another smile but her lips seemed to be frozen in the same turned down position. "I'm sorry. I should be showing you a good time, not sulking."

"So don't sulk," he said easily. "If he doesn't see what he's missing, then he's a fool."

"I thought I would use you tonight to make him jealous." She did smile then, a little ruefully. "That makes me not only pathetic, but also a terrible hostess. It would serve me right for you to get pissed and not even show up at the shoot tomorrow."

He sent her a reassuring look. "Then I would be the fool. I'm sure you know much money I'm getting paid for this," he said lightheartedly. "There's worse things to be had than being used by a beautiful woman. And if the look on your boyfriend's face is any indication, I'd say it's working out favorably."

She glanced at Dante. "He looks like he wants to kill you."

He waved a hand. "I'm used to it."

She laughed. How was this Irish god so easy to talk to? A slow song came over the jukebox, and Evan surprised her again by standing up and holding out his hand. "Let's push him a little more, shall we? Dance with me."

She stared at his hand. "There's no one else dancing."

"Exactly."

Smiling, she laid her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet and lead her to some open space on the floor. He slid his hands around her waist until they rested against her lower back. As nice as they felt, those hands weren't Dante's, she couldn't help but think to herself. She scolded herself again and then forced her arms to wrap around his back, drawing her closer to him. They swayed more than danced, and Lulu suddenly felt nervous. Doing this with anyone except Dante somehow felt…wrong. It also caused a pang in her heart because it had been so long since she had even done anything like this with Dante. So long since they had even gone out on a date. Evan was turning out to be pretty amazing, so why couldn't she just lose herself in him, even for a little bit?

"What part of Ireland are you from?" she asked, desperate for some conversation to distract her. She had to crane her neck to look at him. Even in the four inch heels she was wearing, he was over a foot taller than her.

"Was born in America actually. My father was born and raised in Galway, but my mother is from Chicago, where they met. We lived there until I was eight, and then we moved to Dublin. I've been all over the place since I started modeling."

"And when was that?"

"When I was sixteen. So for about the past twelve years give or take."

"Wow."

"Have you ever been to Ireland?" he asked her.

Her smile was strained. "Not too long ago actually. I went with…" Her voice trailed off, and she saw on his face he knew what she was about to say.

Her eyes widened a little when he suddenly lowered his face to hers and then brought his mouth to her ear. "Speaking of whom, we're about to have some company." He pressed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

* * *

Dante had seen her the moment she walked in the door. She was impossible to miss. His whole body tightened when he saw her in the body-hugging red dress with the barely there straps that showed entirely too much for anyone but him. But she wasn't there with him. She was there with _him_. The fucking model. With his fancy fucking clothes and his fancy fucking accent.

He downed a shot of whiskey. And then another. And another. He was fairly certain the alcohol was burning a hole in his stomach. He switched to beer and then spun around in the bar stool so he could torture himself some more for the next hour.

Her hair fell in subtle curls around her face and over her shoulders. When she reached up to brush a strand away from her eyes, his hand squeezed the beer bottle painfully. It should have been him touching those silky strands.

Then there was her smile and her laugh that he could hear from where he was sitting. That bastard didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of those things.

Then again, neither did he.

Goddamn, he missed her so much he fucking hurt. What was she trying to prove anyway? That she could have any guy she wanted? He already knew that, which was why at times it was still a kick in the ass that she had chosen _him_. That she had loved _him_. Did she still love him? Or was she halfway to gone? Was it that easy for her to move on to someone else?

His whole life was falling apart before his eyes. But the only part he cared about at that moment was currently being drawn into the arms of another man.

Hell no.

Dante watched as she placed her hand in that son of a bitch's and he led her a few feet away from the table and then slid his hands around her. He had no right to touch her. A slowly burning rage stoked inside of him. And then damn it to hell, her arms went around him too, and hurt slammed through his system instantly. He felt an odd pressure pushing against his chest, and his stomach seemed to form about a hundred small knots twisting inside of him. And as angry as he was, a shred of guilt sliced through him because when was the last time he danced with Lulu?

The guilt was soon washed out by the fury when he saw the asshole bend down and press his lips against her cheek.

Hell fucking no.

He found himself next to them in five seconds flat.

"Keep your hands and mouth off of her, GQ," he warned lowly.

When they pulled apart, that fucker actually had the nerve to look amused. Lulu just looked uncomfortable.

"Back off, Dante," Lulu sighed.

Dante felt his eyes narrow to slits when the piece of shit ran a finger over Lulu's lips. "It's okay _a ghrá_."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Dante asked irritably.

A smirk. Dante felt his hand clench. "My love."

Dante let out one small humorless laugh before nodding briefly and then connecting his fist to the smiling bastard's face.

Lulu gasped and immediately went to Evan's side as he hunched over and held a hand near his mouth. She turned angry eyes on him. "What in the hell is wrong with you?"

He stepped back as Matt and Maxie came rushing over to help. Maxie pushed past him and gave him a cold glare. "Real mature."

Dante shook off the pain in his hand and hoped he didn't reopen any of the cuts underneath his bandage from carelessly picking up the pieces from the beer bottle the other night.

_Shit, shit, shit_. What _was_ wrong with him? He was a cop for chrissakes. He was supposed to break up fights, not start them. And why was he still battling the urge to take another punch?

Ah hell. When Lulu stood and looked at him, it was with tears, hurt, and disappointment in her eyes. Like he hadn't seen enough of that lately. Like he hadn't caused enough of that lately.

She opened her mouth to say something but then shut it almost immediately, turning on her heels and practically running to the bathrooms.

* * *

Lulu stared into the mirror and dabbed at the mascara that started running down from her eyes. How could everything have gone so wrong?

She heard the door to the bathroom open and stared in disbelief as Dante stepped inside, clicking the lock after him. Un-freaking-believable.

"Get. Out."

She spared a quick glance underneath the two stalls to ensure they were alone and then leveled a harsh stare at the man who seemed unfamiliar to her.

"No," he responded as he moved towards her. No, _stalked_ towards her.

"You are a world class bastard, you know that? If Evan can't do his photo shoot tomorrow, you're going to owe me my paychecks for the foreseeable future because my ass will be fired!"

"He had his hands on you. He kissed you," he replied stubbornly.

"He kissed my cheek for god's sake! And all because I had the stupid idea to try to make you jealous. My God, Dante. You may as well have lifted your leg and it would have sent the same message." She shoved his chest. "Whoever I spend my time with is none of your business. Not anymore."

"The hell it isn't," he shot back angrily. "You wanted to make me jealous, well, congratulations sweetheart, you succeeded."

"Yay me," she muttered sarcastically. "Now get the hell out."

He stepped even closer until the backs of her legs were pushing up against the sink. "No." His pupils dilated. "Do you have any idea what seeing him touch you did to me? What it feels like to know you can have a fucking model practically worshipping at your feet?"

Was he crazy? Or just plain blind? "Welcome to my world. How do you think I've felt trying to measure up to Brenda?"

"Fuck Brenda."

"Did you?" she bit out before she could take it back.

His eyes darkened with way too many emotions to name. "No," he growled. His hands settled on either side of the sink, effectively caging her in. "Never."

Before she could formulate a response, his mouth came down over hers in a possessive, almost punishing kiss. She clamped her lips shut, refused to even respond to the less than subtle urging of his mouth. She pushed at his chest, but he wouldn't budge, instead stepping even closer until she could feel the hardness of his erection through his jeans as it pressed right above her center. And damn her body for instantly responding. She made a sound of protest even as he growled again in frustration against her lips. Her teeth bit down on the inside of her cheek.

"Open for me," he whispered huskily against her lips and she could feel his warm breath against her face.

She shook her head despite the rush of liquid arousal she felt pooling at her core.

"Open," he repeated softly, gentling the movements of his mouth over hers until his lips were just barely touching hers, moving back and forth once, twice. "Please." He kissed the corner of her mouth and then moved over to do the same to the other side. His tongue slipped out of his mouth and slid along her lower lip, tasting her. She couldn't hold back the moan. "Please."

Their eyes met and held while his lips continued to brush feather-light caresses against her mouth. With a small cry, she surrendered, parting her lips, and his tongue took advantage, sliding inside her mouth and rubbing against hers in slow, suggestive movements. She slid her hands up to his face and then higher until they were fisted in his hair. Their eyes met again for a fleeting moment before hers drifted closed and she let him take her deeper, take her higher. She felt his hands cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushing over the nipples pebbling beneath the thin fabric of her dress. She arched into his touch and became weak in both knees and willpower. Seeming to sense that, she found herself being lifted until she was sitting on top of the sink. Dante's hands slid her dress up higher so he could make it easier to spread her legs and step in between them. His cock grinded against her throbbing sex and she instinctively thrust out her pelvis, needing the additional friction as she moaned against his mouth.

She cursed herself for being all kinds of a fool as she felt her panties get even wetter. He pulled back and that possessive look was back in his eyes. "No one else will ever kiss you like that," he said fiercely before his lips captured hers again. Alarm bells rang dimly in the back of her mind but any coherent thought shattered when he trailed kisses down her cheek to her neck until his tongue was pressing against her rapidly beating pulse.

He slipped his hands inside her dress and her breasts popped free, the bunched up material below them lifting them higher. She gasped when his thumbs and forefingers came together to squeeze each aching nipple. "No one else will ever touch you like this." His head dipped down and one of her nipples instantly found its way inside his mouth as he suckled and teased, stroked and grazed. He trailed his tongue across her chest until he reached the other breast and repeated the same kind of drawn out torture, making her moan and pant for breath.

She had to stop this. This was wrong. All wrong. But she couldn't make the words come to her mouth when he suddenly dropped to his knees. He pushed aside her panties and she felt each breath against the wet folds of her sex. She looked down at him, her eyes clouded. He seemed to take a deep breath in, as if taking in her scent, and she shuddered. "No one else will ever do this." And with a groan, his tongue thrust all the way inside of her. She bucked against his mouth and cried out, losing all sense of her surroundings. She braced her hands on the sink and pushed her hips out as his tongue lapped at her sex, making some kind of swirling motion from bottom to top that had her whole body shaking and her vision splintering. "Only I will ever make you come like this." Then his mouth latched onto her swelling, throbbing clit and he sucked mercilessly.

"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God," she chanted and then she completely fractured against his mouth when his teeth bit down on the bundle of nerves. She came in a pulsing rush and his mouth kept moving over her sex as her body racked with her release.

When the haze surrounding her consciousness faded away, the horror and reality of what just happened sunk in and had her feeling sick to her stomach.

"No," she moaned and then came to her feet, almost stumbling with the boneless feeling still residing in her legs. She forced her quaking muscles to move and she frantically pushed her panties back into place and repositioned her dress back over her breasts. She turned around to look in the mirror with resignation. She looked thoroughly…used. Fresh tears made their way to her eyes and she tried to blink them away.

He tried to reach out to her, but she pulled away. "Whoa. What's wrong?"

She scoffed. "What's wrong?" She shook her head. "What's right? You know what? Maybe you are the only one who can make me come like that, so congratulations, Dante. You got me off. But I also doubt there's anyone else who would try to use sex to control me."

He looked insulted. And pissed. "It wasn't like that, damn it!"

She shook her head. "Nothing's changed. You still haven't told me the whole truth. All this was was you beating your chest and marking your territory," she said bitterly.

"Fuck that, Lulu." He made a frustrated sound and then seemed to soften his next words. "I love you. I'd do anything for you. Why can't you see that?"

Mental and physical exhaustion beat at her. She looked at him sadly. "All I wanted was honesty and trust. But you couldn't do that, could you?"

She walked over to the door and fumbled with the lock, turned back. "I think we need to consider this space permanent."

Without waiting for a response, she fled.

* * *

Lulu stared at the muted television screen, images she couldn't seem to make her brain process flashed before her. She was curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped tightly around her. It was 1:30 in the morning, and she couldn't turn off the nightmare of the evening long enough to fall asleep. She had tracked down Evan, Maxie, and Matt as soon as she left the bathroom and even though they shot her concerned looks at her appearance, they didn't question her.

She had apologized profusely to Evan and then blathered like an idiot for at least a half hour. She assured him she took full responsibility for what had happened and told him she would understand if he never forgave her and wanted to have her fired.

His kindness was just about her undoing as he assured her he didn't blame her for a thing. His lip was bleeding, but it was still too early to tell if the makeup people could work magic for the shoot tomorrow. Or today, she supposed, looking down at her watch and becoming fixated on the seconds as they ticked away.

Maxie had seemed to understand her need to be alone and made arrangements to stay over at Matt's place. She had already had a good cry or two, and she felt that blissful numbness start to slowly settle in.

The knock on the door had her jumping.

"Lulu. If you're in there and awake, please open up."

Dante. Of course.

"Please," he repeated. "I'm so fucking sorry for everything. I need to talk to you." He paused. "Please, Lulu."

She sighed and sat up on the couch, stared at the door for the next minute. Against all that was rational, she got up and opened the door.

So much for being numb. Just looking at him brought back all those raw emotions she'd been struggling with.

"Not now, Dante," she said with a tired sigh.

His eyes were a little bloodshot and had dark circles starting to form underneath them. He easily looked about ten years older. "I need to talk, and I need you to listen."

She didn't respond. Only went to go sit back down on the couch.

He remained standing. "I haven't been keeping things from you to hurt you, Lulu. I've been keeping things from you to protect you. That's all I've ever wanted to do. But part of it was also me wanting to selfishly keep you out of the darkest part of my life. I didn't want it to touch you. I _don't_ want it to touch you."

"That's fine, Dante. I'm not going to argue with you anymore. I don't have the energy."

He kept talking. "Brenda's face may be in every fashion magazine in existence, Lulu, but she and everyone else will always pale in comparison to who you are and what you mean to me."

God, how she wanted to believe that. "Earlier tonight...The last thing I wanted to do was demean you or disrespect you. I sure as hell didn't mean to maul you in a public restroom. I missed you so fucking much, it was more about not being able to keep my hands off you than anything else. There's no one more beautiful to me, inside and out, Lulu, and I guess faced with the thought of losing you, especially to someone else, it made me a little crazy. You're the most important part of my future. Because I don't see one without you in it."

She released a slow breath and felt her heart come to life, the anger around it dissipating. "Dante."

He sat down beside her on the couch, took her hand in his. "I never meant to take you or what we have together for granted, and I'm sorry if that's what you think. You've been a rock for me, Lulu. I wouldn't have made it through this last year without you. And I never, ever thought I would be so lucky to have someone like you in my life. I want to be everything you need too. I want to support you and be there for you and love you. I'm sorry for how I behaved tonight, both to you and to…Evan." He seemed to have to force that name out, and a small smile lifted the sides of her mouth.

"I didn't mean to act so insecure. I was so scared of losing you and no matter how hard I tried not to, my thoughts always went back to Brenda, and whatever past you two share, I was worried it would leak out into the present," she admitted.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and with his other, he lightly stroked her cheek. "You have nothing to worry about where Brenda is concerned. We do share a past," he added. "And the situation we were in, we did get close. I was a rookie cop guarding a supermodel, and I'd be lying to you if I said there wasn't some infatuation there."

She nodded, in understanding and in acceptance of his admission. His hand dropped from her face and settled on her knee. "I got a little sucked in, but I never knew her the way I know you. I never knew what was in her heart like I know what's in yours. And she didn't have mine, Lulu. You do. I never loved her. I knew her for two weeks." He paused. "But what we went through was pretty intense and it's been the reason why I've been so distant with you."

Nerves fluttered in her belly. "It's fine. You don't have to tell me anymore. I believe what you've told me so far."

"I've been a mess, Lulu. And honestly, some days, I feel dangerously close to alcoholic status. Being away from you, I realized it's because I lost the person who had become more than just my girlfriend. I lost a best friend. I need to get this out."

Now it was she who brought a hand to his face, and because he looked like he needed it, she touched her lips softly against his before pulling back.

"I'm the worst kind of hypocrite," he said. "I did exactly what I turned Michael in for. What I came down on Sonny and Jason for. I covered up a crime. And I hid the body." He took a deep breath. "Brenda killed someone in self-defense. I would have died if she hadn't done it. She saved my life, and I felt I owed her. But I sacrificed my morals and risked my badge in the process, and I'll have to live with that every day for the rest of my life. The man she killed was the Balkan's son. That's what makes this whole situation dangerous for everyone, Lulu."

Lulu's mouth dropped open in shock, not only from what he just shared with her, but because this was hitting entirely too close to home. She shook away the thoughts and focused back on Dante, who was getting clearly agitated.

"That's why I didn't want to tell you this. But because this is touching me, it could touch you by association, and you need to be cautious. I'll make sure you're protected from this as best I can, and with any luck, this will all be over soon. If what I did gets out, I could lose my job at the very least. I would deserve to lose my badge."

"No." She shook her head. "You're a good man, Dante. And a good cop. Everyone gets a little lost along the way, and sometimes we get too caught up in defining what's right and wrong that we ignore the things that can fall in the middle. Your experience with Brenda obviously helped you to decide what to do about Michael. In the end, he's going to come out stronger because of the decisions you made. You need to forgive yourself."

His breath was shuttered. "Lulu. God, I missed this. Being able to talk to you like this. You've been the one bright spot in my life. I could stand to lose everything else, but I couldn't stand to lose you."

She leaned into him, laid her head down against his chest. "You won't lose me."

"There's one more thing. One more reason why I did what I did."

She looked up at him, waiting for him to continue.

"Brenda was pregnant. I don't think the Balkan knows, but if he finds out…" He shook his head. "The stakes get even higher. It would take a lot of digging to find out there was a baby. If someone got that far and figured that much out, then the only thing they would find in any paper trail is that Brenda suffered a miscarriage."

She mulled that over. "But that's not true, is it?"

After a long pause, Dante responded, "No. And you're safer not knowing the details so that's all I can say. I'm sorry."

"Okay," she said without question. "And you don't have to apologize. You also don't have to worry about me telling this to anyone else. You can trust me."

"I know." There was no hesitation. "I just hope I didn't lose your trust in me in all of this, Lulu."

She pulled away from him. "You're entitled to your past, Dante. I shouldn't have made you feel guilty for that, and I should have had more faith in us both instead of letting my fears get the better of me. I just…" She paused, searched for the right words. "I only wish you had told me sooner because I know how you feel. I know how Brenda feels."

When confusion passed over his face, she took a deep breath and told him everything. Everything about Logan, the cover-up, her temporary loss of sanity. And just like when she had told him about the abortion, there was no judgment in his eyes or his words. No anger or disappointment. Only the same steady foundation he had always been as he held her through more tears and whispered reassurances into her ear.

"It's only more proof," he said quietly, her head resting against his shoulder.

"What?"

"That you are the strongest, most amazing woman, Lesley Lu Spencer. And I love you so goddamn much."

She leaned her head back so she could smile up at him, lifting her fingers to trace along his lips. "I thought I loved Dillon and Logan and Johnny. But how I feel about you…" She gave her head a small shake. "Nothing even comes close. You showed me what real love is, Dante, and I can't ever see myself not being so completely in love with you. Not having you in my life."

He dropped a kiss to her forehead. Then grinned. "I have to admit though…I kind of love when you get jealous and possessive. It's freaking hot."

She laughed and then let her fingers run the length of the gold chains around his neck, stopping at the hanging pendants to briefly hold them in between her fingers. "I never really saw you jealous before today. I kind of liked it," she grudgingly admitted. "Up until the point where you punched my model." She made sure her voice was appropriately stern, but if anything, Dante's smile just widened.

"Maybe not one of my finer moments. And he's not your model." He held up the hand that was still covered in a bandage. "Should have used the other hand. This one hurts like a son of a bitch now."

He grunted when she slapped him in the chest. "You probably deserve it." But she brought the hand to her lips and kissed it anyway. "I think we just need to agree to always talk about what's bothering us. Not let it get to this point again where we both end up miserable."

"Deal." He bent his head and took her mouth in a slow meeting and exploration of lips. She sighed into the kiss.

He pulled away so he could stand from the couch, taking both of her hands into his and pulling her up with him. He stepped a couple feet backwards, then folded her into his arms as they wrapped protectively and warmly around her. She let hers loop around his waist. Yes. This was exactly right. Tucking her head beneath his chin, she felt him move back and forth so slowly it was almost imperceptible.

"What are you doing?"

"Dancing with my girlfriend."

"There's no music."

"Doesn't matter."

She sighed and smiled against his skin, breathing in the masculine scent of him that she could recognize in an instant. Timeless moments passed before she pulled back and looked into eyes that were staring straight into the very heart and soul of her.

She brought his face to hers, kissed him. "Make love to me."

Clothes were shed and left a trail to Lulu's bedroom. Hands touched, discovered, explored. Her eyes didn't leave his as he laid her down against the bed, his naked body coming down on top of hers. She felt the heat of him immediately as it crawled inside of her and ignited the blood rushing through her veins. Her heart pounded in her chest when she watched his eyes flare before his mouth claimed hers again. His erection pressed against the juncture of her thighs and she could feel it swelling against her. She moaned and shifted her hips, trying to bring it inside of her to ease the building ache. Her sex throbbed, more arousal evident between her legs, and he hadn't even touched her there yet.

"I need you," she whispered against his lips.

He pulled back, letting one hand splay against the sheets beside her, holding up his weight, while his other reached down to take his cock in his hand. He slid the swollen tip of it up and down the length of her equally swollen folds, the action causing a long, drawn out moan to rumble out of her throat. She arched her hips. God, she was burning up.

She gasped in pleasure when he buried the head of his cock inside of her and then dragged it up to brush against her distended clit, once and then again and one last time. Her body shuddered and she almost came. Her eyes had slammed shut momentarily, her breathing heavy. Sweat dotted her upper lip, her hands clenched in the sheets. When her eyes opened again, the look he was giving her made her shudder again.

"You are so fucking hot." He took a deep breath, seemed to struggle to find air. "And you are so fucking mine." The words were raspy, a little growly. And oh God, it set her blood to a full boil. "I don't care how possessive it is, you're mine, Lulu." His cock rubbed her clit again and he brought his head down to a breast to stab at a nipple with his tongue before taking it between his teeth, the pull shooting straight to her core, making her whimper.

"God," she gasped out. "And you're mine." It was a breathless moan.

"Goddamn right," he growled again, his erection thrusting all the way inside of her as his mouth covered hers and his tongue thrust through her lips at the same time, penetrating her mouth in the same way the hot length of him penetrated her body.

He pinned her hands above her head, their fingers intertwining as their hands pressed deep into the mattress, sending his full weight down on top of her, sending his cock impossibly deeper until his balls pressed against her, the head of his shaft she could swear was nudging her womb. She felt so full, so hot, so right with him inside of her, the walls of her sex hugging him tightly.

And then he started moving. It was slow for only brief moments before the pace he set became frantic and erotically charged. She met him thrust for thrust. His mouth had left hers to settle against her neck, and she rested her cheek against the upper part of his head, feeling his hair against her skin. Their sweat-slicked bodies glided against each other and she felt the tightening in her belly, mini-spasms already clenching at his cock. She locked her legs around him and let the pleasure take her, crying out his name as her orgasm seemed to spiral herself outside her body. He kissed her again, her name spilling out of his lips into her mouth like a prayer. She felt his cock pulse inside of her with his release and her hands tightened around his as her body rocked against him, riding out the waves together.

It was long, long moments later when his body was spooned against her, her back curved to his front. His right hand was draped over her waist and she held it in hers, her fingertips rubbing soft circles through the bandage.

"Brenda was wrong," she said.

"What?"

She turned in his arms. "When she came to your apartment looking for you that day." No need to specify what day. "She told me not to lose myself in a man like she did." She shook her head and touched her hands to his face. "But I think with the right man, you can find yourself. Like I have with you."

He let out a slow breath. "God, I love you."

She kissed him. "I love you, too."

And they proceeded to show each other again.


End file.
